


Lost

by naturalblues



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, I love tonks and remus, Memory Loss, Romance, being sweet and cute, breakfast cuteness, they will be precious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naturalblues/pseuds/naturalblues
Summary: Remus Lupin wakes up one morning in his home with his beautiful wife, and knows that he's lost something -- he just can't remember what. She helps him as best as she can.





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.

Remus Lupin woke up from a dream that had its tendrils still in him, even though he couldn't remember quite what it had been about. It was so vivid that he felt almost displaced in his own home.

He was surprised, seeing that the sun was shining so brightly through his curtains -- and just when had they bought those? He and Tonks were supposed to still be discussing them due to their price! -- and the feel of the warmth in the air was palpable. It felt like waking up in the middle of a summer's day, and rubbing his legs all along the sheets gave him a distinct pleasure that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Since... hmm. He was having trouble recalling what had been going on in the fog of sleep.

He yawned sleepily, taking in the light reflections of the chandelier above him. It was kitschy, modern, and handmade by Tonks herself after a mirror had broken. To reverse the luck, she'd insisted. The prisms danced along the walls, and he could hear birds chirping. When was the last time that he'd truly taken the time to appreciate a chirping bird? He just smiled a bit, feeling totally relaxed, and listened to the whistled song. He could hear the soft sounds of rushing water. Sliding out of bed, he gets his sea legs going (his wife always did say he rose like a newborn giraffe) and headed toward the window. Smiling, he could see that their home was in the middle of a forest, with a small creek leading right out of the house. The bay window was a perfect area to sit and enjoy this, to read with his wife, and snuggle... well, snuggle, period, he supposed.

Something about the sounds around the house was both so comforting and so disconcerting. He distinctly felt like they were wrong, there was something that just wasn't right about them. He could have sworn that they hadn't even bought this house yet, nor half of the decor in it. They all looked _expensive_ , and neither he nor his wife could brag of any money to speak of, especially since... well, since everything happened. He began to head down to the kitchen, where he heard sounds of tinkering, and a kettle just being ready. He made a pit stop in the bathroom, and saw all of the obnoxiously neon towels and the black shower curtain that his wife had squealed over in  _the Modern Witch_ , her favorite decor magazine. The amount of galleons that had to have been spent.... did she go spending while he slept? As he took himself in hand and began using the loo, he began to whistle lightly.

 _When was the last time he'd been carefree enough to whistle?_ _What had been stressing him?_

There was something missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Probably post-dream weirdness, he was fine with that. It didn’t matter in that next moment, making it downstairs into their ridiculously large kitchen, seeing the vision that was his wife, sun along her mussed hair, in those pajama shorts that drove him wild paired with one of his vest tops. She grinned, handing him his morning tea, and offering a sausage. He couldn't help himself as his eyes raked over her figure. She looked  _amazing_ , he wasn't worthy of her. Growing up, he'd never dreamt he would get any woman, let alone this amazing creature to his left. She was such a  _cool girl_ , and he'd always been the nerd.  
  
He ate breakfast with her sitting on the kitchen island, and him munching off a plate standing up, talking and joking with her. They were laughing about something that he'd read in school and mispronounced, her Latin lessons, the time Sirius had turned a student into a pollywog, the time she'd turned herself into a duckface for a month just to spite others. He play-bit her neck, making snorting sounds to get her laughing, and she turned her nose into a goose beak, making a noise back that could only be called a  _hork_ , instead of a honk. They both laughed until tears of mirth ran down their cheeks, and he picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun her around, the world just all feeling  _right_ for once.  
  
Instead of doing the dishes, they made love on the counter.

It only took some slight adjustment, as it didn't work as well as it did in movies without some serious work, but he was able to adjust himself so each thrust of his pelvis grazed her clit and made her sob his name with pure abandon. Her perfect nails raked up his back, caught on his shirt, and when she hit completion, she bit his neck like she knew he liked. It felt so good that he went for an instant round two, clearing off the island where they'd eaten by shoving the plates out of the way and taking her from behind, satisfying the beast within by the sounds of her soft cries. Tonks started laughing when, moving her hand in post orgasmic bliss, she found it stuck in jelly. 

* * *

 There was still something strange about it, no matter how brilliant of a morning this was. This was the best morning he'd had.... ever.  
  
“What do you think?” she jolted him out of his reverie with her question.  
  
“Hmm? About what?”  
  
“Remus! You seemed a million miles away just now.” she lightly admonished him, making him blush.  
  
He gave her a sheepish smile, and she laughed a bit. “I said, we have company coming over.”  
  
He blinked a bit. “That sounds good. I’ll go check Teddy.”  
  
She started dancing with him, playfully, distracting him, not even bothering responding. Why hadn't he checked in on him earlier? Even though they'd been co-sleeping, perhaps with all of the changes and the stress he was apparently under, he'd forgotten about giving the boy his own room. Humming a bit to his favorite tune, he couldn't help himself but to move his feet. He waltzed with her around the kitchen, and she shook her head at him, stroking his cheek. “Why don’t you stay with me? Let’s talk.”

He blinked, and shook his head. “I’ll be down in one moment, we can chat then.” With a smile, he headed toward the stairs to go up to the only other bedroom in the house that could have belonged to his son, and he stopped as he noticed something about the living room. Were his toys and his bouncy chair not unpacked? He would have to remedy that. He began planning that as he ascended the stairs, trying to ignore the usual nerves he got whenever anyone said ‘let’s talk’. Stupid anxiety.

Tonks stayed downstairs, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and her mouth trembled.

  
A few moments later, he shouted down to her, asking if their son was in his playpen in the living room.

"No." her response was curt, and when he shouted a  _what_ , she said it louder, more firmly. "No."

He walked back downstairs, looking confused, but going based off her calm demeanor, surely nothing was amiss. “Is he with Molly this weekend?”

Did they need a vacation so badly he’d forgotten?  
 

”He isn’t with Molly. Remus–”  
 

He shook his head, furiously, suddenly certain that Teddy was in danger, he couldn’t explain the panic. His son felt a million miles away from where they were, and all of his werewolf instincts told him that letting the boy out of his sight was a mistake. While Tonks being calm made him want to be calm, he just couldn't get past this. There was something legitimately _wrong_ , and he wanted his son.  _Now._

"Darling, this isn't right, this isn't right--"

"My love, please..." she stroked his cheeks, trying to plead with him to look at her, to listen; but he wasn't ready to do either one.

His heart was beating a million miles a minute, a bit of a cold sweat appearing as he did a dance of panic around the house looking for the boy, calling out to him as though he were big enough to answer. None of his son's toys were in the house. None of his son's items at all -- no playpen, no pram, no bouncy chair or swing. His books weren't there, his clothes, his nappies, there wasn't a single sign of his existence anywhere!

His nerves were on fire, and by now his wife’s cool attitude about it just made everything worse! “I have to go, I have to find him, our boy… is he with... is he with someone, is he… something’s not right!”

She just stared at him with this soft, sad smile. “We don’t have to go anywhere… Remus –”  
  
He grabbed her shoulders, in desperation. “Where is he, love?! Why isn’t he here?!”

"Remus, we can't go to get him and bring him  _here--_ " she was crying, now, finally showing some emotion. Her tears made him feel better.

"Please tell me this is... this is  _fiction_ , my love, tell me it's just a lie..."

She panted in a struggle to keep a sob back, and before she could speak while stroking his chin with her thumb, he held up a hand.

"Whatever you choose to tell me... please say he didn't die...."

* * *

  
His front door opened, as people he never thought he’d see again made their way through it as if they owned the place. Sirius’ casual greeting, followed by hugs and spinning him around in a way he hadn't done since James' wedding. The greeting made his heart swell and stomach clench at the same time. He was in tears, wringing his hands like his grandmother used to do, and struggling to cling to some form of reality.

Was he crazy? Is that what he'd forgotten? Was... was his son.... dead...?

Flashes of his dream came back to him.

_The Battle of Hogwarts, he’d been facing Antonin._

_He’d lost. The flash of green light had hit him and his body was absorbed by a sharp sting and then there was nothing._

_He’d spoken to Harry, telling him that he'd be with him until the end the same as Sirius and his parents would. He'd forgotten that._

_He'd stayed with him and watched Voldemort kill him, watched him carried back to Hogwarts. Everything made more sense when you..._

_But then everything had changed, and for some reason his memories had shifted...he’d woken up here._  
  
_Not a dream. A memory. His last ones._

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see James, a face he never thought he’d see again. He didn't look a day older than he had when he'd died, and it reminded Remus that when he'd looked in the mirror, and he hadn't put much thought into how good he'd looked. How good his wife looked.  
  
“I was the same way, once we woke up in our home, and I couldn’t find Harry.“ James bit his lip, looking down. At Remus' choked exhale, his moved right back up to meet Remus’. “I didn’t understand. But it’s better he’s not with me, and yours not with you. He’s still alive, Remus. That’s what matters.”   
  
He stared down at the ground, wishing he had something, anything that he could hold of his son's, but knowing it was a lost cause. He would never get to raise his child. He would never have another. This was the choice he had made, and he was happy to do it…. to make that sacrifice for what he believed in. But… this was the way that he’d loved his son, like it was forever. But now they’d all spend the rest of their lives – just not together.

* * *

  
After a long day with his old friends, orientating himself to this new life, he laid down in bed next to his wife. Even though he didn’t necessarily need the rest anymore, he still wanted it, mostly out of habit, something to cling to. Something to make him feel normal, especially after the long day of realizing what he'd lost, and what he'd gained. A day of tears and laughter, a day of reminiscing and embracing.  
  
Remus Lupin fell asleep, and when he dreamed, he swore he was able to stand right beside his son's cradle, his wife at his side. When Teddy was older, he would swear that every night he'd felt like he was being watched over.

But perhaps that was just a dream for all three of them.


End file.
